#WELL THAT'S A DIFFERENT STORY ARE YOU KIDDING ME

[annasellheim]

So this was on the @writing-prompt-s site- so I'm treating it as a writing prompt. (I can't fucking draw right now due to a busted shoulder, so I'm doing a bunch of them because I'm alone, hurt, and sad, and they're fun).

Anyway, the story:

I sat down next to him. I looked at my former student, now an adult. A brilliant engineer. I remembered him. I had really liked this kid. The man in front of me was impressive as hell too. It didn't surprise me at all.

"I'm really, really sorry this hurt you. That I hurt you. What I was trying to do was show you some techniques. My goal was that, later, after you learned them, you could deviate from them and make your own thing.

We have a set of guidelines of things we need to teach. It's a mandatory curriculum, with national guidelines, just like math or science or whatever. But it varies from state to state. And who the hell knows what they do in private school. And the curriculum isn't focused on self expression as much as teaching you how to use fine motor skills and..."

Shit, stop it Anna. You don't need to keep justifying yourself.

I try to remember when he had moved away during the school year. I wonder if I hadn't gotten to the point in the spring semester where I gave my students more lee way, to experiment and deviate from the techniques I showed them. To let them decorate their dishes any way they wanted. To make trees and flowers for different seasons. I wondered if he had been part of one of my first classes, before I figured out how to create a really solid curriculum.

Regardless, I could have been clearer about it. I was new to teaching when I had him as a student, I know that much. I was overwhelmed, and honestly, barely keeping it together for the first, like, 4 years I taught. And there were 20-30 students in my classes. It took me a a while to figure out what works and what doesn't in the classroom.

The most important thing was this man in front of me. He was way quieter and more hesitant than the kid I remembered. I hope I didn't do that to him, but I'm was probably reading too much into it.

I took a sip of my coffee.

"You know what's cool tho? The shit you've been doing at work-"

He looked surprised and snorted.

"What?"

"You swore."

It was my turn to laugh. "Yeah, to be fair I'm not in classroom mode right now.

Anyway, the stuff you've been doing at work, it all sounds like it takes a ton of creativity to accomplish."

"I never thought of it that way..."

"Well, you've been on the forefront of a bunch of stuff because you think outside the box. I'm glad I didn't rob you of that."

We sat next to each other on the bench. He was thinking it over. I was trying to not dwell on the fact that he brought this up, that he had carried this pain with him for 20 years.

"Do you still make art?"

"No, not since elementary school, since my last-"

"Your last required art class. Got it."

I gave him a side eyed glance.

"You know you can get back into it at any time, right?"

He was taken aback, he obviously had never considered it.

I smiled. I've had this conversation before, many many times.

"It's not like a sport or something. You can start at literally any point in your life, you don't need to be young and in peak physical condition. Art ain't basketball.

The cool thing too is that you can choose what you want to make, you're an adult. Nothing in art is required for you to learn. You can pick any class you want, or no class at all."

I gave him my business card.

"If you shoot me an email, I can give you some books to read for you to get started. Not to teach techniques, but exercises that help get you back to the point where you just make stuff. I think a LOT of people stop making art for all kinds of reasons, not just because of a novice teacher. There's been a bunch of stuff that's come out recently to try to help adults make art again. y'know, to recapture the joy of it."

We said our goodbyes. I really hope he thinks it over and reaches out.

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

[nathaslosthershit]

The Main Event (Multiple Pairings) Part 1

Can be read as a standalone but also (Part 8 in the Blind Items AU A/N: Its my nineteenth birthday 🥳 I wanted to write about adults being happy in different stages of their life because I am so scared of growing up and the thought of not being a teenager next year makes me nauseous. Enjoy! Each pairing has a Blind Items backstory which is linked at the start of their section (You don't have to read the backstory, though) Multiple (separate) Pairings: Logan Sargeant x Leclerc!reader, Oscar Piastri x reader, Charles Leclerc x reader, Lando Norris x reader, Lance Stroll x reader, Lewis Hamilton x reader, Alexander Albon x reader in the next part Summary: A wedding between Logan Sargeant and the youngest Leclerc child means a very interesting guest list, in which all previous victims of the F1 Blind Items account are included.

Oscar Piastri

“Dude, how come you are more nervous about my own wedding than I am?” Logan asked.

Oscar rolled his eyes and scoffed, pretending what the American was saying was ridiculous, as he nervously picked at his nails, trying to hide his trembling hands. Logan just laughed at his friend's failed attempt at nonchalance.

“It’s just- I’m nervous about the media inserting themselves in the events today. I mean I don’t want to have my toddlers in the spotlight any more than they already are.” Oscar explained. After being forced to reveal his kids to the world before he nor his fiancée were ready, and after just a few interviews and racing events the kids attended, Oscar didn’t want to give the media much more for the time being.

“Wow, way to make my wedding about you.” Logan teased, trying to relieve the utter look of anxiety and despair on Oscar’s face. But the Mclaren driver just shot him an unamused glare. “Look, I have told you time and time again if you don’t want them as flower girls- or kids, I’d gladly make my brother frolick down the aisle throwing petals. As much as I love my honorary niece and nephew, nothing would make me happier than making Dalton do that.”

This finally got a laugh out of Oscar. “They have been practicing too much to do that, we would be in for a shit storm if you tried to take away their time to shine.” It had been a big thing in the Piastri household for the past few months. Every second of every day, Frances and Hudson had been asking their parents questions about what weddings were like, how they should walk down the aisle, and if they had to see uncle Logan kiss his wife (they were not amused by the idea of having to see that). Not to mention the hundreds of times they forced their parents to watch how they would walk down the aisle, asking what they thought and ignoring any criticisms given to them (they saw no reason as to why they shouldn’t be allowed to dance and sing while throwing petals). 

“Then calm down. If all goes well there won’t be any media there, I mean I think we have done a pretty good job at making sure no one outside the event knows about it. Plus, no offense but there are plenty of people with far more interesting stories and scandals than your family. The tabloids are bored with y’all now that there isn’t anything new to expose.” Maybe a harsh way of putting it, but it was true, there were plenty of Formula 1 couples who had been exposed by the media for various reasons in attendance today. 

“Right. Got to say, Logan, the guestlist is impressive. I mean could you imagine telling your 13 year old self that the Lewis Hamilton would be attending your wedding?” Oscar asked. Even after a few years racing against the guy, the shock from being around him never wore off. He just had that ‘greatest of all time’ energy.

“I can’t even take the credit for much of it though. It's the bride who brought all the biggest names.” Logan rolled his eyes playfully. It was true though, his wife-to-be had made friends with all the biggest names in the world and they weren’t half assed friendships either. She could make even the tiniest of acquaintances feel like longtime companionships. She could make everyone feel so unbelievably loved and cherished in such a short time.

God he couldn’t wait to marry her. 

Oscar laughed at the lovesick grin on his friend’s face. Usually he’d tease him, but he decided maybe he should just cut the man some slack on his wedding day. 

But the urge was too great he couldn’t let Logan go unteased, before he could do so though-

“Dad! Dad! Dad! Look, me and Fran match!” Oscar’s son, Hudson, ran into the room, his sister following after him.

The two seemed to light up in their soft blue outfits.

“Don’t you two look awesome!” Logan said from behind the twins, making them turn around. “You guys look better than me on my own wedding day.”

The toddlers shouted in excitement as they ran to their favorite honorary uncle (much to Lando’s chagrin. He fought hard for that title).

“You two ready to be the stars of the show? Throwing petals ain’t easy work.” He said as he crouched down to hug the toddlers.

Oscar rolled his eyes. Leave it to Logan to make his own children completely uninterested in him. Fortunately, someone who was actually interested in him entered the room after them. His wonderful fiancée.

“You look gorgeous, honey.” Oscar said awestruck.

“You saw me in this earlier.” She deadpanned. 

“Let a man compliment his fincée, will you?” Holding her close to him, kissing her deeply. It was only when the two weren’t cut off with toddler “ewws” and “stop grossss” that they looked back at their children, currently in a… dance competition with the groom. “Glad to see how much they care for us.” Oscar sighed, feeling childish jealousy. 

“Let him entertain them, he’ll get some more practice for when he has his own kids.”

“He’s too young, honey. He is about to get married, he doesn't need to think about that right now.” Oscar scoffed, feeling offended for his children that Logan would ever dethrone his honorary niece and nephew from being his favorite kids.

“Says the man who had two kids by 18 and has been engaged twice, but not married, by 23.” Honey amused.

He blushed at the reminder that their relationship had been done a bit… backwards.

“They already have an officiant and audience, maybe we can just jump in with the bride and groom, two birds with one stone.”

“Nope! I already have two Piastri’s taking the spotlight today, I don’t need more.” Logan said while both twins climbed all over him.

Charles Leclerc (And the Leclerc Co.)

Normally, hard launching your child was not something a bride would encourage on her wedding day, but as the youngest Leclerc child, Charles’ sister loved the drama. Hence why her nephew was making his debut to the public as the ring bearer. Only a month old, the media hadn’t gotten to meet the cutie as he was born right at the start of winter break. It brought tears to his eyes, how insistent his baby sister was on having her nephew involved in her wedding. It was already an emotional day for Charles, who felt like he was losing his first baby as he walked her down the aisle and sent her off into her future, but he truly couldn’t be happier.

And doing it with his son by his side just made it all the more memorable. 

“Honey?” Charles’ girlfriend called as she popped her head into the room he was getting ready in. In her arms was their newborn who, while still so small, broke everyone’s heart at how big he was getting. “Oh, my love, are you seriously crying again?” she asked as he tried to inconspicuously wipe away his tears.

Being reminded that he had just been crying only made him start to cry more.

“Charlie, you are more emotional than I was while pregnant. What is going on with you today?”

“It is stupid, I’m sorry. It's just- it was yesterday my sister was in my arms, having just been born, and now she is getting married and the American is taking her away.”

If there was one thing the Leclerc brothers loved to do, it was make fun of their soon to be brother-in-law. They truly did love Logan, but it was so easy to pick on him and he was far too polite to try anything with them yet. If you asked them, they would say they are just treating him like the brother he is, but they also just really love how much it pissed their sister off, who will certainly be defending him. 

“Oh, sweetheart, she isn’t going anywhere. They are still going to live in Monaco, and you race with her husband almost every weekend. If anything now that they are married you will see more of her.” 

It was true. Even if the Leclerc brothers had a strict ban on dating drivers, they had to admit that their sister had found a good partner in Logan. A man who was driving alongside Charles, had been on the same team as Arthur in the past, and knew just how important and difficult the sport was on family. 

Giving her boyfriend a quick kiss on the cheek after wiping his tears from his face, Charles’ partner went on to try and fix the mess of hair that her lover was currently fighting. 

The Leclerc’s had terrible bed heads, something that unfortunately had already been seen in the first grandson, even at just a month old his hair was thick and unmanageable. 

Fortunately, Charles had calmed down enough that he was no longer a complete mess when his brothers entered the room. If Charles knew anything about his brother’s (and his sister) it was that such tears would have led to him being teased for the rest of his life about it. 

“Have you seen her?” Charles asked Enzo, hoping for any indication on how their sister was doing, having been too busy setting up for the wedding and taking care of his son to check on the bride thoroughly.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “When we tried to see her, Maman wouldn’t let us in.”

“Why? Is something wrong?” Charles’ girlfriend asked, the same level of concern in her voice displayed accross Charles’ face. 

“No, no, the bride said she wanted to have a little moment with the four of us before the wedding, so she didn’t want us to see anything before.” Enzo explained. He had understood her sentiment, Arthur… not so much.

Letting out a breath at the confirmation that nothing was wrong, Charles sat quietly while he got his hair tamed, his brothers playing with their nephew in the back.

It was a sight that almost brought tears to Pascale’s eyes, but she had already cried so much and she knew she needed to save the rest of her tears for the ceremony. Her three boys, all in different stages of their lives, all dressed up and ready to support their baby sister on her big day. 

There was a sense of love and excitement in the air, reminding her of when her daughter had first been born, her older brothers hardly able to sit still while they waited in anticipation. Though everyone was calm now, having gotten most of their childish impatience out of their system, those feelings hadn’t changed. 

“Someone wants to see you all.” She spoke up, getting the attention of her boys. Charles’ girlfriend pressed a kiss to his cheek and took their son from his uncles, wanting to give the Leclerc siblings a moment alone. 

“My goodness, you look stunning.” She said to the bride as she walked through the doorway before leaving. This made all the brother’s perk up, losing the rest of their patience as they waited to see their baby sister.

The second she stepped into the room and tears welled up in everyone’s eyes, the Leclercs knew it was going to be a long day full of bittersweet melancholy, but also one so full of love.

Lando Norris

“Have I told you how wonderful you looked?” Lando asked, grabbing his girlfriend’s hand as he ran his thumb over her knuckles.

She rolled her eyes, “Only a thousand times since we got in the car. Not to mention when I was getting ready, when I was trying on dresses, or when I was simply speaking to you about what I was thinking of wearing.” She teased.

He knew it was overkill, but he also knew how stressed she was. Not about the wedding, she was excited to attend and celebrate, but of the fact she knew she’d finally be identified as Lando Norris’s “unremarkable” girlfriend the tabloids have talked about for a while. 

The media knew he was dating not a model, or heir to a fortune, or an influencer, but a “simple” teacher, one who had a private instagram account with hardly 100 people on it. They had seen what pictures Lando posted of her, maybe a few posted by friends, but they never showed her face. They didn’t even know her name.

Even though their words were harsh, even though it hurt they thought she was undeserving of him when they didn’t know her, the anonymity at least came with the sentiment that all their judgements came from one simple fact, that she was a teacher. Now, they would have more to criticize, more to know, and she hated the thought.

Despite the public not knowing about her though, she had still been able to become good friends with many of Lando’s. Had been present for many arguments between Logan and Lando as they defended their individual titles of being “the best honorary uncle” to the Piastri twins and had been there to help watch the toddlers so Oscar’s fiancée could get a bit of a break during races. 

She loved so many of the people there, and she knew they all had her back. Because of this, she felt more ready to face the music. She shouldn’t be ashamed of who she was, she loved everything about her life, and she wouldn’t be made to feel bad for loving Lando. 

In the end, it was what the two of them thought and felt about their relationship that mattered. 

Lando smiled as he watched her take a deep breath, ready for what was to come. He’d move heaven and the earth for her, and he for sure wasn’t going to let some idiots online ruin something so good.

Lance Stroll

“You must have the worst heartburn, huh?” A mutual friend of a friend, Marie, asked.

“Oh, well actually-”

“Ugh it was so bad! And the indigestion, that really sucked. Oh! Reminds me of this one awful stretch of time when I was pregnant. I was actually also at a wedding…” Marie started on a tangent about some pregnancy horror story. One the currently pregnant woman she was talking to, didn’t appreciate hearing at the moment.

Lance looked over at his wife, stuck in conversation looking pained. Fearing that something was wrong with her or the baby, he quickly made his way over with an excuse to whisk her away.

“Are you alright?” He asked once out of earshot of Marie. 

His wife opened her mouth to answer, but was unable to when a choked sound made its way out first. The sound attracted the eyes of several wedding guests, who upon seeing that she was pregnant, turned back to their conversations, finding that as the excuse for such an outburst. While she was embarrassed when all eyes turned to her, the lack of interest in her wellbeing after seeing her belly just made her start to sob even more.

Knowing his wife was in distress and clearly the crowded room was adding to the discomfort, Lance led her to an unoccupied hallway. 

“Come on, hun. How can I make this better?” Sweetness, with a bit of helplessness, in his tone.

“You-you can’t!” She cried. God, how was she ever supposed to explain what the hell was happening with her. Especially when each second, she felt differently.

Maybe that was the problem. 

 “I’m- I am so tired of being the pregnant lady.” She managed to get out.

Lance frowned at the confession. “I know, love. I can’t imagine what it's like to be pregnant, and I wish I could help. I know it sucks, but you can get through-”

“Stop! That's the problem. Every single issue I have is written off as something that just happens with pregnancy. Like they are just side effects that can’t be helped! Like I just need to deal with them alone because “I signed up for this”. Maybe it sounds stupid or childish but I don’t give a fuck anymore, Lance. I don’t want to be treated like some pregnant lady, I don't want to be treated as if every single emotion I have is just because of hormones or because all women are just expected to suffer through this! Marie just came up to me and started talking about her own horror stories from when she was pregnant! I don’t want to hear that, not when she isn’t giving actual advice, just trying to laugh about things I, as the currently pregnant person, don’t find funny! I don’t want to talk about how I am so hungry and have people laugh and say ‘oh that's just what happens’. I want to get food! I want to be able to be upset without people losing interest the second they realize it's just the pregnant lady crying. I want the things I'm going through to be taken seriously, Lance.”

A beat of silence as he took in her words. 

As the silence stretched on though, she found herself with an apology forming on the tip of her tongue, feeling bad for yelling at her husband during her tangent when, even if he had contributed to the problem, he didn’t really do anything wrong. 

Just as she opened her mouth though, he got on his phone. 

She started to not feel as bad as she watched her husband seemingly ignore all she said.

“Are you-” She began, just to be cut off by him putting his phone in his pocket, and kissing her deeply.

Most of her anger seemed to disappear at that moment. He hadn’t kissed her like that in what felt like forever. Since she had told him she had been pregnant, he had been unsure of how to go about doing… well, anything. 

After a few passionately blissful seconds, he pulled away, still holding her face between his hands and stroking her cheek with his thumbs. “I ordered a car to take us to a crappy fast food place.”

She stammered, “What do- why?”

“You said you are hungry, the ceremony hasn’t even begun yet, we are going to be here for a while before we can eat and while I’m sure the bride and groom have an amazing set up, there isn’t a point in making you suffer any longer when we can fix it.” he explained.

She didn’t know what to say. She wanted to agree, but she also wanted to support their friends and knew she probably shouldn’t skip out on their wedding day. But she really needed something to eat and her feet were killing her already- 

“No, Lance, we shouldn’t it- it would be rude.” She answered.

Lance laughed at her attempt at trying to convince both herself and him. “As much as I’d love to stay, I’d much rather watch you eat a disgusting amount of fast food in an impressively short amount of time all the while dressed to the nines. Plus, we both know the bride and groom would be understanding.” He said as he grabbed her purse and opened the door for her. “After you, my love.” 

She sighed, realizing he was right. 

“Oh how gentlemanly of you,” she teased in a posh accent. “Is it often you whisk away distressed damsels to fast food restaurants?” 

“Only the gorgeous ones. I did earn my nickname of Sir Lancelot from my wife for a reason.” He teased back.

“It seems you have.” She replied with a kiss on the cheek.

Lewis Hamilton

“Oh, sweet pea. You look stunning!” Lewis said as he facetimed his daughter, currently at home with her mom.

The young girl giggled at the compliment, asking her dad about the wedding. She had been more than curious about weddings lately after hearing that her dad was attending one. 

“-and the bride wears a beautiful white dress”

“Like the one mommy is wearing?” she asked her dad, pointing to the oversized t-shirt her mom was wearing with paint stains on it from when she and her partner had painted the nursery for the 1 year old currently asleep in said room. Lewis laughed at the image.

“While I am sure your mommy could wear that and still be the most beautiful girl in the world. A wedding dress is a little… different.” Lewis answered.

“Mommy! Can I see your wedding dress?” her daughter asked.

Both parents froze at the question, realizing they might have not told their child a pretty important detail about her parents. 

“Oh- honey. Daddy and I never got married.” She answered. Her daughter looked back at the phone, at her dad, confused.

“Dad? Why didn’t you marry mommy? Don’t you love her?” 

Harsh. Lewis didn’t know how to answer such a question, but he eventually found the words. 

“Sweetheart, you know I love your mom very much. You are all my most favorite girls. Some people just don’t get married, they don’t feel the need to.” He answered. It wasn’t that the two of them didn’t want to, they had planned on it. But their first daughter had been unplanned, then their second had been too, and eventually, as they became everything to one another, they didn’t have a wedding so high on their priority list, knowing the proof of their love was evident in the two girls they were raising, in the life they had built together despite many unwanted opinions trying to ruin it. 

“Let me talk to your dad sweetie. Can you grab my water from the living room?” His girlfriend asked as her daughter handed her the phone and jumped off the bed.

After the sound of the young girl’s footsteps softened in the background, she spoke up, “Sorry about that, Lew, she saw a photo of some celebrity wedding today and her interest in the topic was reignited.”

“She is a curious kid, I get it. She is a smart one too, she gets it from her mother.” He watched his girlfriend blush at the compliment. Even while tired having to take care of the two young children alone, she seemed to be glowing. “We never did get around to marriage, did we?” 

She sighed, “I guess we got too busy. I hadn’t even thought about it in a while- not that I don’t want to marry you still!”

He laughed at her realization she may have chosen her words wrong, “No, I haven’t either. Two kids is a lot, and we both know how we feel about each other. But I will always be ready to marry you, the second you say so.”

“Well, I’ll always be ready to marry you, after you properly propose. You already got two kids out of me, I at least deserve a big flashy ring.” She teased.

“And you shall have it my love.” Lewis suddenly heard his daughter coming back. He spoke up when he saw her pop back up on screen, “What do you think, love bug? Should mommy and daddy get married? I think your mom would look beautiful in a big white dress, right?”

The little girl perked up at that, “Yes! But, will it be hard for mommy to wear a dress with the baby in her tummy?” She asked, pointing to her mom’s stomach.

Both adults froze. 

Slowly, Lewis’ girlfriend let out a deep sigh. “Baby, I told you not to talk about that with daddy till we could tell him…”

If his eyes opened any wider, they would have popped out of his head. “She’s serious? We are having another baby?”

“Surprise? I wanted to keep it a secret till you came back and make it all special but she was so sad when you left I told her to cheer her up.”

Lewis’ heart softened at the thought, “Well, I guess a wedding might have to be postponed for the time being” He amused.

They’d get around to it, maybe after this next kid, maybe after the next few.

Part 2 coming soon featuring: Alex Albon x reader, Logan Sargeant x Leclerc!Reader (Its 1 am and I have work in a few hours)

[willowsnook]

Wouldn't have it any other way

rye with salami, ranch, and mikes way please and thank you! (idk if i did that right, i've never done this before)

jack hughes x reporter!reader

she isn’t you

——————————————————

Working as a reporter covering the NHL was a childhood dream of yours that came true. You worked your ass off in college, having internships each summer which led to an opportunity at ESPN that turned full-time after you graduated. You were ecstatic when they moved you to New Jersey to cover the Devils. It had been six months and so far you had gotten along well with all the players…well except one.

“Ya we got whacked two games in a row, so the last thing you want to do is stand and talk in front of you guys,” Jack Hughes told the small group of reporters crowding his locker, you included. You rolled your eyes which didn’t go unnoticed.

“Something to say, sweetheart?,” he said, eyes honing in on you.

You felt your cheeks flush with anger at his condescending tone. "It's our job to ask questions, Hughes. If you can't handle that, maybe you should find a new career."

The locker room fell silent, all eyes darting between you and Jack. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as he stepped closer.

"And maybe you should find a new team to cover if you can't handle a little attitude," he shot back.

The tension was palpable. You'd butted heads with Jack since day one, his arrogance rubbing you the wrong way. But this felt different, more charged.

"I can handle you," you replied, holding his gaze. "Question is, can you handle the heat when you're not performing on the ice?"

A collective intake of breath from the other reporters. Jack's eyes flashed dangerously.

"That's enough," the Devils’ PR manager said, ushering the reporters out of the locker room. You shot Jack one last glare as you followed the rest of the pool out. You knew you were going to get your ass chewed by your boss but you couldn’t help it. Jack was infuriating.

Unfortunately, your phone rang the second you were out of the arena and you listened to your boss rant at you. The moment was apparently already blowing up on social media and it was not a good look for you or Jack really. Half of the internet said you were too young to be in your job and wildly unprofessional while the other half defended you, calling Jack a dick who needs to respect women. There was another weird fan side of hockey twitter that were now actively shipping the two of you together, claiming it could be a perfect enemies-to-lovers story.

—————————————————————-

Headphones in, you watched workers out the window as they loaded luggage onto your plane. New Jersey to Vancouver was a long flight so you had splurged, upgrading yourself to first class to try maybe and get some actual sleep. The seat next to you was still empty and as the time ticked by you grew more hopeful that it would remain that way but nothing good lasts forever.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” a voice called out next to you and you looked up to meet the eyes of none other than Jack Hughes.

Your heart sank as Jack glared down at you, his tall frame looming over your seat. Of all the people to be stuck next to for a cross-country flight, it had to be him.

“Why aren’t you flying with the team?” You questioned.

“I overslept and missed the flight,” he muttered and you snorted.

Jack huffed as he stowed his carry-on and slid into the seat beside you. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. You both sat rigidly, avoiding eye contact as the rest of the passengers boarded.

As the plane began to move, you couldn't help but sneak a glance at Jack. His jaw was clenched, hands gripping the armrests tightly. Was he... nervous?

"You okay there, Hughes? Not scared of flying, are you?" you teased, unable to resist.

He shot you a withering look. "I'm fine.”

But as the plane started to take off his breathing grew more rapid and you started to get concerned. You hit a bit of turbulence trying to level out, and Jack’s hand moved towards yours, gripping it tightly.

“Sorry,” he rasped, but you kept your hand in his, caressing his skin softly with your thumb.

“It’s okay,” you murmured. “Just try and breathe.”

“I’m trying,” he snapped and you rolled his eyes. “I need you to distract me.”

“How?”

“Just tell me something about you I don’t know,” he asked looking over at you pleadingly.

“Hockey isn’t my favorite sport,” you said instantly. It felt like your dirty secret being a hockey reporter, but it was the truth.

Jack let out a strained chuckle, “oh yeah, what is?”

“Football,” you replied and he nodded at you to keep going. “I fell in love with it when I was just a kid watching Brett Farve. Him leaving the Packers was my first real heartbreak in life. I like college football more now and while I love the atmosphere of hockey, there is nothing like a Saturday night home game in the palace. The lights illuminating the fields, the smell of popocorn and hotdogs, the fight song playing in the background, and everyone knows that $20 beer tastes better watching your favorite team. What’s more romantic than that?”

If Jack didn’t have the history he had with you, he thought he might have fell in love with you right then and there. His grip on your hand loosened slightly as he listened to you speak, his breathing becoming more even. He found himself captivated by the passion in your voice as you described your love for football.

"I never would have guessed," he said softly, a hint of a smile on his face. "You always seemed so... intense about hockey."

You shrugged, feeling a bit vulnerable having shared something so personal. "It's my job. I take it seriously."

"Maybe too seriously sometimes," Jack muttered, but there was no real bite to his words.

The plane leveled out and you both realized you were still holding hands. You quickly pulled away, clearing your throat awkwardly.

"Thanks," Jack said, avoiding your gaze. "For, you know... helping me through that."

You nodded, unsure how to respond. This was the most civil conversation you'd ever had with Jack Hughes, and it felt weird. The rest of the flight went by without a spectacle; you were happy to catch some shut-eye, and woke up as you were about to land, Jack nudging you awake. He grabbed your bag for you, and you followed him off the plane, stopping when he turned to face you.

“Back to our regularly scheduled business of hating each other,” he said with a smirk, and you laughed.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way Hughes,” you shot back before heading off.

—————————————————————————

After a long call with your boss the next day, you were very irritated. Since the Devils were playing the Canucks, he wanted a short fluff piece about the Hughes brothers reuniting.

“It won’t be that bad,” Luke said after you tracked him down to tell him about the assignment. “You love me, and Quinn will love you.”

“I’m not worried about you two,” you told him with a look. “I’m worried about your other brother, who makes me want to jump off a cliff.”

“You’re dramatic,” he said, crossing his arms and you huffed. “We are all getting dinner tonight; just come with us. It’ll be a good chance to see us all off the ice.”

Later that night, you find yourself in the lobby with Luke, waiting on his brothers. Dressed down and out of your business wear, you felt more like yourself in a cute white sweater and jeans. Jack stepped out of the elevator and you immediately crossed your arms, already not in a good mood seeing him.

“Why is she here?” He asked Luke, completely ignoring you.

“She is writing a piece on the three of us, so I thought it would be nice to let her see the non-hockey side of things,” Luke explained and Jack groaned. Quinn stuck out his hand to introduce himself, and you smiled warmly at the oldest brother.

“So you’re the one who has little Jack by the balls?” He teased and Jack shoved him while you laughed.

You and Jack didn’t say a word to each other on the way to the restaurant and you luckily ended up being diagonal from him. It was a steakhouse but you weren’t that into steak so you opted for a grilled chicken salad with no tomatoes of course. Remembering that you were here for work, you kept quiet just observing the brothers.

"Remember when Jack tried to dye his hair blonde and it turned orange instead?" Quinn chuckled, earning a glare from Jack.

"Hey, at least I didn't cry when mom cut my mullet," Jack shot back, causing Luke to nearly spit out his drink.

You couldn't help but smile, seeing this different side of Jack. He was more relaxed, his guard down as he joked with his brothers. You caught yourself staring at him a few times, noticing how his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

The waiter soon returned with your food and you sighed as you watched your salad be placed in front of you with the tomatoes you had asked to be left out. You were never one to send something back, so you accepted your fate and unrolled your silverware.

“Everything look good?” The waiter asked. You nodded absentmindedly as Jack opened his mouth.

“She asked for no tomatoes,” he said, pointing to your salad. Your head snapped up and the waiter began to apologize.

“Oh it’s okay,” you said, trying to wave him off but Jack gave you a stern look that made you sit back.

“Don’t like tomatoes?” He mused. “Kind of childish, don’t you think?”

“You literally ordered a lemonade,” you shot back and his eyes narrowed at you.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s every kid’s favorite drink,” you retorted.

Jack scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Oh, I’m sorry, Miss Sophisticated Palette. Let me guess, you’re a black coffee type, right? So edgy.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your soda. “At least I don’t need a sugar rush to get through lunch.”

“And yet, here you are, drowning in soda. Classy.”

You gestured to his plate with a smug smile. “Says the guy who’s been avoiding the broccoli on his plate like it owes him money.”

Jack’s smirk faltered, and he glanced down at the offending vegetable. “It’s not avoidance. I’m saving the best for last.”

“Sure you are. Must be why it’s still untouched and getting cold.”

“You know, you’re a lot braver with your words when I don’t have a hockey stick in my hands.”

You shot him a fake, sweet smile. “And you’re a lot more tolerable when you keep your mouth shut.”

Quinn and Luke were thoroughly entertained as they observed the back-and-forth banter between you.

“You see what I have to deal with?” Luke said, looking at Quinn once you and Jack had finally stopped.

“Jack finally met his match,” he commented, prompting an eye roll from the mentioned brother.

The rest of the dinner passed with a mix of tension and grudging amusement between you and Jack, while Quinn and Luke kept the conversation flowing. As you all left the restaurant, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret at how quickly you and Jack fell back into your antagonistic pattern.

"So, got enough material for your fluff piece?" Jack asked sarcastically as you walked back to the hotel.

You sighed, "Probably. Though I'm not sure how to write about the Hughes brothers' dynamic without mentioning how insufferable one of them is."

Jack chuckled, surprising you. "Just make sure to mention how charming and handsome that one is too."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "In your dreams, Hughes."

As you reached the hotel, Luke and Quinn said their goodbyes, leaving you and Jack alone in the lobby. An awkward silence lingering in the air between you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” He asked and you gave him a weird look, trying to figure out his angle.

“Where else would I be? I’m always front row waiting for you to mess up,” you joked and he gave you a playful frown.

“Very funny,” he said before bidding you goodbye and going up to his room. Things felt different between the two of you tonight, and you weren’t sure how you felt about it.

———————————————————————-

The Devils beat the Canucks handily and you found yourself with a couple of other reporters waiting for Jack, who had scored, and a new girl that you didn’t recognize.

“Hi Jack,” the girl called out as he got settled and he looked at her amused. She looked like a puck bunny who had snuck in; beach blonde hair, fake spray tan, low cut top, you knew the type. Jesus, what had gotten into you, you thought, trying to shake off your cattiness.

“Hey, haven’t seen you around before,” he commented and she giggled. Literally giggled in response. The other reporters were amused but you kept your lips in a firm line.

“You were so great out there; it’s so impressive how hard you work,” she said and he smiled awkwardly thanking her. “Do you ever get scared when the puck comes at you?"

You couldn’t help but snort out loud when she asked that and Jack looked amused at you.

Jack’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, his smirk growing wider before he turned back to the blonde with a practiced ease.

"So," he said, leaning casually against the bench, "you’re new to the media scrum, huh? They usually send someone more…" He glanced at you briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Experienced."

The girl giggled again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh, well, I’m just filling in today. I guess I got lucky getting to talk to you."

"Guess I got lucky too," he said smoothly, his tone playful. "Usually, I’m stuck with—" He cut himself off, letting his eyes flick to you with mock innocence. "Well, people who don’t seem to enjoy the job as much as you do."

Your jaw tightened, but you kept your face neutral, scribbling something completely irrelevant in your notebook to avoid giving him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"So," the blonde continued, practically glowing under his attention, "what’s it like to be so focused all the time? You’re just so… intense on the ice."

Jack chuckled, shaking his head. "Takes a lot of practice. But I don’t think I’m half as intense as you just now."

Her eyes widened, and she laughed, her cheeks turning a shade pinker. "Oh my God, stop! I’m just trying to do my job."

"And you’re doing it very well," he replied, his voice low and charming.

You shut your notebook loudly, drawing Jack’s attention as you stormed out of the locker room, your cheeks flushed with anger and... something else you didn't want to acknowledge. You made it halfway down the hall before you heard footsteps behind you.

"Hey!" Jack's voice called out. "Where are you going?"

You spun around, glaring at him. "Away from that circus. I have actual work to do."

He jogged up to you, a mix of confusion and amusement on his face. "What's your problem? Jealous?"

"Jealous?" You scoffed, crossing your arms. "Of what? Your ability to charm airheads?"

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "Wow, that's pretty harsh. What happened to journalistic integrity?"

"What happened to professionalism?" You shot back. "Or do you always flirt with reporters during interviews?"

His expression shifted, a knowing smirk appearing on his face.

“You are jealous,” he said confidently and you were about to argue back but he grabbed a door handle behind you, yanking the door open and pulling you in it. It was a smaller equipment closet, but you didn’t have much time to look around before Jack had you tight against his body.

“She isn’t you sweetheart,” he said as your body flushed against his.

Your breath caught in your throat as Jack's words sank in. The closet suddenly felt much smaller, the air thick with tension. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, his chest rising and falling against yours.

"What are you doing, Hughes?" you managed to whisper, your voice betraying your conflicted emotions.

His eyes searched yours, intense and unreadable. "Something I've wanted to do for a long time," he murmured before closing the distance between you.

His lips crashed against yours, hungry and insistent. For a moment, you were too shocked to respond. But then, as if a switch had been flipped, you found yourself kissing him back with equal fervor. Your hands tangled in his hair as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

The kiss was everything you never knew you wanted - passionate, electrifying, and months of frustration bubbling over. His hands moved under your shirt and up your back as his touch burned your skin. Resting your head back against the wall, he took advantage, latching on to your neck, sucking harshly.

“More,” you gasped. “I need more.”

He pulled your shirt over your head and you unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes glazed over, looking at your chest and you smirked before tugging at his shirt. He lifted it off and you admired his toned body, tracing your finger down his abs. His breath hitched as he watched you and you smirked seeing the bulge against his sweats get bigger.

Jack's eyes darkened as he watched your finger trail down his abs. In one swift motion, he lifted you up, pressing you against the wall as your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips found yours again in a searing kiss as his hips ground against you, eliciting a soft moan from your throat.

"God, you drive me crazy," he breathed against your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

Your hands roamed his broad shoulders and back, relishing the feeling of his muscles flexing under your touch. Jack's mouth moved lower, trailing hot kisses down your collarbone to your breasts. You arched into him as he took a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

"Jack," you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair. He looked up at you, a mix of lust and something softer. “I need you in me.”

“Let me savor this sweetheart,” he pouted and you shook your head.

“Not the time or place,” you argued back and he sighed. Pulling down his pants, you spit into your hand before bringing it to his cock, pumping a few times, causing him to hiss. Shimmying out of your pants, you let him lift you against the wall, angling himself at your entrance.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.

“Just this once,” you said and he rolled his eyes.

“We’ll see,” he replied and you started to argue back but he pushed in and your head fell forward onto his shoulder.

Jack began to move, thrusting into you with a steady rhythm. You clung to his shoulders, biting back moans as he hit just the right spot with each stroke. The closet filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the slap of skin on skin.

"God, you feel amazing," Jack groaned, his pace increasing. You wrapped your legs tighter around him, urging him deeper.

"Harder," you demanded, nails digging into his back. He complied, slamming into you with renewed vigor.

The tension that had been building between you for months was finally finding release. Every thrust, every touch was electric. You couldn't get enough of him.

"I'm close," you panted, feeling the familiar tightening in your core. Jack slipped a hand between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit.

"Come for me, sweetheart," he urged and you cried out, his hand coming up to muffle the noise. Riding out your orgasm, you were clenching hard around him and he grunted as he kept up the pace, pounding into you.

As your walls continued to contract around him, Jack couldn't hold back any longer. He buried his face in your neck, groaning out your name as he spilled into you.

For a few moments, all that could be heard was your heavy breathing as you both came down from the intense high. Jack leaned his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your skin. You both took a few minutes to catch your breath before Jack slowly pulled out of you. You winced slightly and Jack gave you a concerned look. He handed you your clothes and you quickly put them back on, refusing to look at him.

“Y/n,” he said softly and you finally looked over at him. His face was flushed, hair all over the place, but the look he was giving you made you want to take your clothes right back off.

“This was just two people blowing off steam, nothing more,” you said and he grinned widely.

“Oh, so you won’t mind if I hook up with that other girl next time instead?” He asked and you frowned before quickly morphing into a neutral expression but Jack had already caught it.

“Ugh,” you exclaimed before opening the door slowly, peeking out before you walked out. Jack was right behind you and you thought the coast was clear until you walked right into Quinn and Luke. You froze and felt Jack still behind you as he saw his brothers.

“What were you two doing?” Luke asked, a knowing smirk on his face.

“We were just talking,” you defended, not meeting his eyes.

“Oh yeah? In the supply closet?” Quinn teased.

“It was quieter than the locker room,” Jack said.

“Didn’t sound that quiet,” Quinn shot back.

Your face burned with embarrassment as Quinn's words sank in. You couldn't bring yourself to look at Jack or his brothers, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

"I... I have to go," you mumbled, pushing past Luke and Quinn without meeting their eyes. You practically ran down the hallway, desperate to distance yourself and the Hughes brothers as much as possible.

Once safely in your hotel room, you collapsed onto the bed, burying your face in your hands. What had you done? Hooking up with Jack Hughes in a supply closet was bad enough, but getting caught by his brothers? Your career could be over if word got out.

Your phone buzzed with a text. Hesitantly, you checked it, half-expecting it to be Jack. Instead, it was from Luke:

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with us. But you might want to figure your shit out with Jack ;)”

You groaned, turning over, trying not to think about what happened in the closet or what it meant for you and Jack.

[epicthemusicalstuff]

I CRYUNG I NEED SOMEONE TO SUM UP ALL ETM SONGS MY. MEMORY + ATTENTION SPAN IS SO BAD

Let’s speed run epic the musical so far!! (It’s under the cut cause even a summary is gonna take a bit for 35 songs-)

Horse and the Infant:

Giant horse- ATTACK! ZEUS?!?! What are you doing here? I have to kill a baby? But he’s just a little thing-

Just a Man:

This little boy reminds me of my son. Is killing him the morally correct thing to do? Yeet.

Full Speed Ahead:

Let’s introduce our main cast! Wow! Polites- Eurylochus- Odysseus! BFFs forever! We’re hungry- let’s go to this island and look for food!

Open Arms:

Wow Odysseus, you are looking hella tense, maybe you should try being nice and not so mistrustful. Look at these little creatures eating lotus fruit- wow this fruit is bad for you- let’s go to this cave to find food!

Warrior of the Mind:

Athena and Odysseus back story. Odysseus, your actions aren’t very Warrior of the Mind coded. Don’t disappoint me.

Polyphemus:

Let’s kill these Sheep!! NOOO! Scary Cyclops, we killed his sheep, now he will kill us.

Survive:

HES GOT A CLUB. He is killing us- NO POLITES. Oh, Polyphemus is asleep now cause he drank spiked wine.

Remember Them:

Odysseus tricks Polyphemus. They almost get away, and then he GIVES OUT HIS FULL NAME, JOB POSITION, ADRESS, AND SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER.

My Goodbye:

Athena is disappointed and they have a big messy friend break up.

Storm:

There is a big storm. Wow! A floating island! Let’s go!

Luck Runs Out:

Captain, you keep taking risks and not thinking this through. What happens if your plans fail?

Keep Your Friends Close:

Hahahahahaha! Here is a bag of wind! Don’t open it! Oh- the winions told you to open it? No!! Penelope- I’m hallucinating! Darn- the bag is opened.

Ruthlessness:

You hurt my son. So now I’m gonna kill most of your men. What’s this- a daring escape? Well- I’ll get you sooner or later-

Puppeteer:

An island. Let’s explore! Oh no- scary lady, she turned us into pigs! Let’s run Captain! Or not I guess.

Wouldn’t You Like:

Hey kid, this scary lady could kill you. How about some magic drugs? Totally safe and all.

Done For:

We are evenly matched- big magic fight! Wow! The magic drugs Hermes gave you really are something. Are you trying to seduce me?

There Are Other Ways:

Wow, you really are trying to seduce me. Too bad- I have a wife I love. Wait- you’ll help us? THE UNDERWORLD WHAT?

The Underworld:

We are haunted by everyone we have lost- Polites- wait- MOM?!? I’m too late-

No Longer You:

This dead prophet should tell me what we want to know- wait- what no- this is actually terrible? We came to you for help but now you’re saying you can’t help us? WHO?!a

Monster:

Maybe Poseidon was onto something, and we do have to be ruthless. Welp, time to become the monster y’all.

Suffering:

Ooo, Penelope, I love you, but you know I’m too shy. I don’t want to get in the water-

Different Beast:

SURPRISE I KNEW YOU WERENY MY WIFE. I actually did become the monster, and now I’m going to kill all your friends you Siren!

Scylla:

This is the only way home. Eurylochus, what do you mean you opened the wind bag back in Keep Your Friends Close. Light six torches- oh no, a giant monster is eating our crew. Me and her are the same you know.

Mutiny:

Captain why did you do that? Fight fight fight! Oh no- Odysseus has been stabbed. I’m hungry, let’s eat cows. Oh no, they were a gods cows. We knew that but still ate them. Now Zeus is gonna kill us.

Thunders Bringer:

Zeus is here. You can live, or your crew can live. But like- Penelope. Sorry crew. Crew dies.

Legendary:

It’s me! Telemachus! I never knew my dad- I wish I could know my dad. All these suitors want to marry my mom. I wish I could fight them. DONT CALL MY MOTHER A TRAMP!

Little Wolf:

Fight Little Wolf Fight- we are going to beat you up just cause you were in the way. WOW. ATHENA?? What are you doing here- we haven’t seen you since the second saga! Ow.

We’ll Be Fine:

I’m going to help you cause I feel guilty about your dad. Bet. We are best friends now. Go find my dad.

Love In Paradise:

Rewind- Morning! You were asleep. I’m in love with you now. Ew back away I have a wife. You’re a goddess??? Oh no- now I’m really depressed. I’m haunted by the ghosts again- ATHENA!

God Games:

Zeus- father- release Odysseus. *lots of convincing Gods* NO, YOU DID WHAT I ASKED SO NOW IM MAD. LIGHTNING BOLT. Is she- dead?

I’m Not Sorry For Loving You:

Yes I kept you trapped against you power, but I loved you- why won’t you love me back? It’s not like you have a whole literally family waiting for you-

Dangerous:

HAHAHAHA. Hello old friend! Let’s do some cool dance moves as I tell you how you will get back home. Here is a wind bag 2.0! Let’s hope you don’t have issues with it this time!

Charybdis:

Another obstacle!! But I know how to beat you!! Woo! I see home- I’m almost there! WAIT NO! NOT AGAIN!

Get In The Water:

Poseidon! Please let me get home- I already told Siren Penelope, I don’t want to get in the water! Can’t we get along? No! Drowning-

Six Hundred Strike:

Use the wind bag! I’m out of the water! SIX HUNDRED STRIKE! You’re beat Poseidon- let me go home. What’s this? You won’t. TIME FOR VIOLENCE. Stab. Stab. Stab. Next to my WIFE.

[connielingus423]

So I read Christian’s comment and I don’t think he’s saying he doesn’t care about Vi, y’all.

I think it’s very clear from the creation of the show that Vi is loved and admired and well cared for in these writer’s hands

Everyone was

I think what he was saying explicitly was, the story overall is called arcane. It’s about the waking of arcane in PNZ. And parts of Vi’s story intersect with that. And you can only show so much in one 9 one hour episodes.

Arcane wasn’t Modern Family or Abbot Elementary - those shows are an ensemble but there’s really one or two driving the story. And they’re character pieces where we explore a single individual’s growth or experience.

I think of arcane as an environmental story.

It’s more, “here’s how this thing came to be” aka hextech AND the arcane - to build toward a runeterra that is accessible and understandable for the general public to promote a video game. I don’t think that cheapens characterization nor storytelling. But informs overall story direction WHILE giving us character moments of exploration and growth and pain and love.

Do I wish we saw every minute of Vi’s existence and Caitlyn’s growth? Yeah. Of course. But was that the full focus of the story? No. And that’s okay. That doesn’t mean vi got shafted or hated or ignored. It just means that the story served a different purpose. And recognizing what kind of story we’re being told is a hard task. And it’s a really big lift of critical thinking we as an audience gotta do.

Some folks decided we were getting a character piece and they were wrong. Not their fault. Expectations being set for multiplayer games vs single player games will do that to us. (We as an audience tend to hyperfixate on individuals rather than the overarching story. It’s why folks remember the odyssey, but not Jason and the argonauts as much. The odyssey is about Odysseus. Jason and the argonauts - it can be argued - is about the journey and ensemble)

All this is to say, I don’t think these writers hated vi or ignored vi or sacrificed vi for the story. I truly don’t. I’m so very satisfied with the growth we got of vi. The butch who loves too hard. Who tries every time to do the right thing. Who fails. But gets back up and loves again. Loves some more. Who really is just a traumatized kid in a grown up suit still trying to deal with that using her fists, her street smarts, and her big. Giant FUKKIN. Heart.

I don’t think the arcane team hated Vi AT ALL. On the contrary, I think they loved her so much, they made conscious choices to not depict certain things SO THAT the fandom could engage. Could fill in the gaps. Could interact.

Fan art and fan content is such a strong nexus for iteration in complicated lore like this, I would bet money on the fact that they decided not to show specific things so that we could create it for us. (Ekko and jinx decorating for battle, CaitVi reconnecting immediately after Cait looses her eye, Tobias apologizing to Vi for snapping in his grief. Etc. etc. etc.)

And one could argue that is lazy and exculpatory and not how stories should be told.

But I disagree vehemently. I think stories serve a purpose. It’s why they have a title that tells you what it is and what you’re gonna get.

And this title was Arcane. The arcane woke up. PNZ are forever changed. Machine Herald was formed. Champions rose. And fell. That was the story of this show. The rest is up to us. 🫂

And I for one, think that’s really neat. And a triumph. In storytelling, characterization, and world building. 🥰

But that’s just me.

All that said, I think you’re allowed to be disappointed and sad you didn’t get what you expected! But being a jerk about a misunderstanding isn’t something Vi would do (or at least she’d feel really bad about the misunderstanding after and apologize. Big time).

But let’s not twist words and be cruel to a storyteller (or any storyteller) who clearly has so much love for this story and these characters in their hearts.

Give good faith, get good faith, y’all. Let’s be like Vi, big Hearts, let’s be like Vi and build to the next moment. Love big. Love hard. And do our best to be kind. C’ept for when folks don’t deserve it. 💞

[lightlycareless]

I was reading your scorned ex husband stories and they made me so sad(especially the second one) then I started thinking about the twin au and like what if the twins parent trap them in a different divorced au? Lol. Naoya is still a dick obviously for splitting up twins(seriously who would do that??) but maybe not completely irredeemable for Y/N to forgive him 🥺 Hehe this is just something silly I thought up and wanted to share

Hellooooooo

Heheh this got me watching the movie again, right in the nostalgia. It had been so long since I last saw it that I actually didn't remember most of it, but I do think however: how the hell did they think that was a good idea 🤣 gee, talk about parent of the year.

Anyways, some liberties were taken to make the story work, though the premise is essentially the same.

Also, these are the works anon is referring to :) Ex-husband 1 & Ex-husband 2. Now onto the warnings:

Warnings: none major. Naoya is an a_hole, as always. Naomi and Naori are adorable, but poor kids seriously :'(.

Happy reading!!

If Naoya does this, you effectively hate him from that point forward.

It is non-negotiable, you never want to see him ever again, especially after the cruel words he used to justify the separation of his children:

“I only ever cared about Naori anyways.”

You made it your life-long purpose to keep Naomi from someone as despicable as her father—though it hurt you to do so, for it also meant you’d be away from your beloved son; just 2 years into his life… you barely got to make any memories with him before he was stripped away from your arms.

But such was the divorce agreement: the two would keep one child, and out of their lives.

Naoya remains in Kyoto with his son at the Zen’in estate, while you move back to Tokyo, close to your family but distant enough to have your own apartment. Just the two of you, the little home you always wanted.

In an unexpected turn of events, Naomi and Naori would go on completely unaware of each other until enrolling in the same elementary school.

It was almost undetectable at the beginning since Naomi now had your last name—but once teachers and students alike began to realize their physical similarities, it became impossible to ignore.

“No… we don’t look alike.” Naori would quietly complain. Out of the two, he was the least enthusiastic about this advancement, doing his best to avoid the limelight due to his reserved nature.

However, that wouldn’t mean anything to Naomi: ever the bubble one, she was nothing but to have a new best friend that looked just like her!

“We’re almost like twins!” she gasped—same hair color, eyes, height… how could they not? “I’ve always wanted a baby brother too.”

“Well, I don’t! And I could be older too, you know? Besides, why would I want a sister that’s weak and ugly…?”

Intended to hurt her, Naomi only laughed at his words, for it would take much more than that to bring her down—one could even say that the two were reflections of their respective parents in that matter: the only contrast between the two, as a matter of fact.

“That’s not true!” she happily refuted, taking hold of his hand and heading to the playground. “Now, come on! I want to go on the swings, and I need someone to push me!”

Though Naori was greatly unwilling at first, he’d soon warm up to her, mainly because she was part of the few, if not the only, kid that didn’t bother him because of his shyness; always rushing to the rescue whenever bullies began to swarm him, as well as reassure him there was nothing wrong with being the way he was.

And if that wasn’t enough, the food Naomi began to share with him (courtesy of you, after much insistence from her part) effectively validated their friendship.

“When will you ever bring him over?” you tease, it’s the happiest you’d ever seen your daughter! And for that, you couldn’t help but feel glad and obligated to repay the favor.

“I don’t know, mama. Nori-kun tells me his papa can be quite strict.”

You chuckle.

“Well, I’m sure I can convince him next time the parents have a meeting at school.”

“His papa doesn’t go to school.” Naomi frowns, her words making you sad for the poor child. “Says he’s too busy.”

“Oh, that’s awful. Well, what about the mama?”

“He doesn’t have one.”

Your heart longs to comfort him.

If they only knew…

And as time went on and their friendship flourished even more, so did their interests for one another; beyond those of their favorite colors and toys, and more into… personal grounds.

Matters that had always quietly hurt Naori one way or the other since he could remember; more so since you had been nothing but sweet and kind to a figuratively unknown kid, which highlighted the fact he never had that one thing he always wished for.

What he might never have, since his father has long given up on it, considering the way he coldly changes the subject, or completely ignores it. Naori simply… doesn’t talk about it.

Until now.

“Why don’t you have a dad?” He dares to ask; it’s no secret that the one to pick him up at school is one of his father’s many subordinates, always changing, not enough to be interesting to the other parents outside of how rich (or a jerk) he must be to have employees pick up his child.

Compared to you, always spoken of fondly for the following reasons:

If it was Valentine’s Day, you’d send Naomi with a big box of candies so she could share with all the class.

Halloween was the same, even hosting small gatherings if the children wished to celebrate in a safe environment.

If it was a classmate’s birthday, you always made sure to send them a personal gift or attend their birthday party. Your gifts might’ve put some parents to shame from time to time, but it didn’t matter, you kind of grew to be some kind of celebrity thus a few always tried to be on your good side—or Naomi’s, so to speak.

Naomi’s birthday… well, some fought to be on the guest list.

In other words,you were an amazing for both kids and parents alike, enough to inspire Naori to daydream about what it would be to have a loving mother like you—to always be at the door once it was time to leave, patiently waiting for the moment your daughter would come into view and subsequently pick her up into a tight, warm hug, followed by a kiss and wide smile as you urged Naomi to tell you all about her day.

Or more importantly, wonder if you were open to adopting him.

“Oh… that—I… don’t know!” Naomi responds truthfully. “Mama never talks about him.”

“Have you asked her?”

“Once or twice, but all she says is that I should focus on my studies!

…

But I can see how sad she gets whenever I mention him.” She continues. “Mama isn’t very good at hiding “adult talk” and neither is my auntie, so I always get to hear how lonely she is when they talk about him! … and how she should try dating other people, or whatever that means, so she wouldn’t feel like that anymore.”

“I think is when you marry someone.” Naori tries to explain, Naomi scowls out of disgust.

She doesn’t like the idea of sharing her mama with someone else, grows somewhat jealous too.

Well, maybe if it was Uncle Nanami, he’s always been nice to her and her mama. Not Geto because she plans on marrying him herself.

And she supposes her papa too… but how could someone you love make you sad?

“I don’t want her marrying anyone.” Naomi shakes her head. “She’s happy with me!”

“But don’t you wonder about your dad?” he asks. “What did he look like? How did he meet your mom?”

Or how they fell in love?

Naturally. Because just as Naori, and even after you tried your hardest to distract her from it… she too longed to have a father. Someone to play with her after finishing all her homework, put her over his shoulders and let her see the world from his height, or protect her from the monsters that lived inside the closet…

There must be an answer to both of their mysteries—people don’t simply disappear.

And such, is how they assigned themselves a new mission; a task of the upmost importance, requiring all their attention and care if they wish to uncover why they only have one parent—and who was such peculiar character.

Anything that could hint such solution is a chance they’d take, however…

To Naomi, this endeavor proved quite fruitless, for any indication of your past relationship was effectively ripped from the evidence. Quite literally: thousands and thousands of pictures cut in half, neatly removing the person that accompanied her mother—whom she assumed to be her father. And that’s without mentioning your consistent disapproval of the matter. Naomi was right where she began.

This lack of advancement both frustrated her and placed more pressure onto Naori’s efforts, which shockingly, turned to be quite more than what they bargained for. Getting results neither could’ve imagined, not even in their wildest dreams…

“Naomi-chan… I’m not sure if you’re ready to see this.” Naori would caution as he placed down a large wooden box before her, filled with his findings.

“Why? Why not, Naori-kun?” she frets, surely it couldn’t be anything too outrageous.

…Could it?

Yes, it could. And it was.

Because beyond the astonishing realization that all the pictures Naori brought were in virtually perfect shape…

The fact they both recognize the people in the photo, Naomi’s mother, wearing that same bright eyed, wide smile look on her face whenever particularly excited. Happy—alongside Naori’s father, with his usual dyed hair, ear piercings, and striking eyes…

Holding two newborn babies—named Naomi and Naori such as the inscription in the back stated, alongside their birth time and date (Naomi is older, at last is known) …

Is what truly shocked them.

…

…

…

You. Naoya.

Naomi and Naori.

Mama and papa.

A family, for all intents and purposes.

What everyone around them proclaimed: siblings.

Naomi and Naori were siblings. Twins.

“Does that mean we—”

Naori nods. If it hadn’t been obvious enough by now.

Nonetheless, as thrilling as this discovery was, for it essentially made their respective dreams come true… another question arose. One that undoubtedly could not proceed unanswered.

“Why aren’t our parents together?”

Or most importantly:

“How can we get them back together?”

“But what if they don’t want to?” Naori frets.

“I told you already! Mama looks very happy wit him, and auntie says she’s very lonely too… besides, if they get back together that means we’ll finally be a happy family! And isn’t that what you wanted?”

Naori presses his lips together, nodding.

“I want a happy family too. I’ve always wanted a papa to play with!” Naomi continues.

“And a mom to hug…” Naori adds. “What do we do?”

First…

Get them together, face to face. In other words, talk. It’s how adults always preached problems got solved.

Since you had given Naomi the impression you’re not interested in anything pertaining to Naori’s dad, she had to get creative. Force you into a position where you wouldn’t be able to ignore her as you’ve done before—and one where Naoya would inevitably have to go to school too.

It had to be a convincing excuse, and since the two were children in need of dire solutions, their innocent minds led them to the most extreme resolution yet.

“I need you to punch me.” Naomi says, determined.

“Why?!” he gasps.

“Because I need to get hurt for mama to come, and if you’re the one in trouble they’ll have to call your papa, and then, the two will be here, just as we planned!”

“Can’t we do something less dangerous…?” Naori doesn’t like the idea of getting in trouble with his strict dad, as if he weren’t insufferable enough…

“No, Naori. It must be this!”

“But I don’t want to punch you…”

“Come on, we have to do it to have a family!!” she insists. “Or do you not want mama to make you food every day? To hug you too??”

He swallows.

“I do.”

“Then do it!”

And… he does. After taking a deep breath, clenching his fist and hitting Naomi in what she could only describe the weakest punch she could’ve ever anticipated. Surely, not enough to make this case convincing.

“Naori! You have to hit harder than that!”

“I—I tried!” he cries.

“No, you didn’t!” she cries back. “You didn’t even try!”

“Ye—yes I did!” Naori frowns. “It’s not my fault I’m not as strong as you!”

“Yeah, right! You’re a boy, you’re supposed to hit harder!” Naomi adds, smirking soon after an idea crosses her mind. “… Then I guess you don’t really want a mama.”

“I do want a mom…”

“No, it’s fine. I should’ve known not to trust you with something so important anyways—” she says, words that brush each and every one of Naori’s insecurities. “You’re just as weak as everyone else says…”

With a frown on his face, and a sour tightness in his chest, little Naori quickly clenched his fist and prepared himself to prove her wrong once and for all. Show that he wanted this just as much as she did—if not more.

Naomi was trying her best to get a rise out of Naori, everything necessary to motivate a genuine hit out of him and get their plan in motion—she never meant any of those words, intended to apologize after all was said and done, though she doubted it would matter once they got what they sought after.

But it was almost comical how it happened, how he miscalculated his steps, how far his hand had to travel to hit Naomi, and how he ended up doing far more than necessary: but convincingly so, in the end. Tripping over her and sending the two tumbling down, loudly hitting the ground in such a motion that had them scraping their skin, and of course, tears following suit.

“Maaaaaaa, I want my mamaaaaa.” Naomi intuitively cried, tightly holding onto the teacher as the two were sent to the infirmary.

Naori didn’t cry much for his father, he rarely did considering his prominent absence, but just one look at his teary face and trembling lip, and it was obvious whom he sought for comfort—the same one the school somehow convinced to come along and deal with this unfortunate incident.

As well as the supposed altercation that made way for all this to happen in the first place.

“No, what do you mean a fight??” You’re the first to arrive, demanding a believable explanation from the teacher. “That’s not—that doesn’t sound like my daughter!”

“I know, I thought the same… but that’s what the kids are saying.” She explains. “That Naomi-chan was inciting Naori-kun to punch her, and that she was even saying awful things to get him to do that. I don’t know what they were doing, if they were playing a game or… I don’t know; all of it is so weird—I’m sorry.”

You sigh.

“It’s fine. There’s no need to stress when it’s already happened.” You explain. “Is the parent of the child here already?”

“Should be soon, but I don’t know if he’s actually coming, Naori’s dad isn’t quite… present.”

You frown at the name.

“Naori? Wasn’t he Naomi’s best friend?”

She nods.

“It just makes everything even more unbelievable… really, what’s gotten to them?”

You hope to figure such when speaking to the poor child your daughter allegedly antagonized, after apologizing for such behavior of course. Which you’d have to deal with after returning home—Naomi… seriously, what could’ve possibly gone through her mind to incite such act? Was she being bullied? Did Naori suddenly decide he no longer wanted to be friends with her?

And why did his name appear to be so… familiar?

You’d figure it out soon enough when entering the infirmary, quickly scanning across the room for your daughter—only to freeze upon locking into Naoya’s; a much smaller, softer version of them, that is.

“Mamaaaaa!!” Naomi quickly cries when seeing you walk past the door, rushing to your side and hugging you tightly, the adrenaline of the whole succession still vivid in her mind. “Mama, it—it hurts a lot!”

Comforting her ought to be your utmost priority, but at the sight of your estranged child, the baby you were forcibly stripped away from… you couldn’t think of anything else but pinching yourself to see if this was a dream—if he was truly there, before you: flesh and bone. After so many years of distance…!

And naturally, hug him. Keep him so, so close to you and never let go; to make up for all the time you’ve spent apart and the things you never got to do because of his undeserving, cruel father…

Who stomped past the door soon after, equally freezing when seeing his estranged child, and ex-wife after 5 years of imposed silence. Startled, as if he hadn’t been the deciding factor behind it all.

Or perhaps, the reason why Naori enrolled in this school in the first place.

“Y/N.”

“Naoya.”

Looks like there’s much to catch up to.

Obviously, part 2 is needed. Essentially where Naoya will disclose more of what the hell was going on in his mind when pulling that stunt, as well as some angst. I have to. hahaha

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this little thing I wrote; I do love it when we indulge into domestic au... but not at the expense of the kids 😭😭😭 think of the children!!! lol.

Well, 0nce again, thank you so much for sending in this ask!! Now take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[furiousgoldfish]

I want to talk about a situation that happened when I was a kid, and even though this particular instance did not traumatize me (that I know of), it still deals with traumatic themes, such as physical abuse, attempted murder and severe neglect, so be careful if you're reading on! I'll explain at the end why I'm talking about it, and also psychoanalyze what I think was going on.

When I was about 6-9 years old, I had a strong conviction that my father was going to kill me. He would lock me into the basement and hurt me, and even though the injuries weren't lethal, I could feel the intent, he was out of control, not watching where he was hitting, if he was going to break my bones or not, it was erratic, terrifying. I love how I prefaced this with 'oh this didn't traumatize me' and then I started with that, but it's just the context to the actual story. That first part did probably traumatize me, I remember little of it.

Since I felt that my life was in peril, I decided, logically, that I needed to kill him before he kills me. It was justified I would defend my life with all I had. So I sneaked into the basement room, and searched for something that I could use for a weapon, next time he shuts me in there. I found one, memorized where it was, and then I was ready.

It came soon after, the event of me being alone with him in the basement, him out of control, attacking me, and again, I felt like I was about to be killed. So I grabbed a metal pole hidden next to the fireplace, used my full strength and hit him on the head with it. He fell down, and stopped moving.

I panicked then. He looked dead. I let myself out of the basement (I knew where the key was) and yelled for mother, telling her that I killed him, but I had to, because he was going to kill me. When we got back to where he was lying down, blood was trickling out of his nose. But my mother wasn't panicking like I was, she could probably see him breathing. Then he sat up.

I was even more scared then, because if he wasn't dead, then he knew I just tried to kill him, and would come after me even worse. But he didn't. He didn't even look at me. He wiped his nose, seeming completely calm, rage from before completely gone, talking only to the other family members, who seemed concerned about him.

I was told, that it's good for me that I didn't kill him, because had I done that, I would have been imprisoned for murder for the rest of my life. And other than that, everyone ignored me. Nobody talked to me, or had anything to say about the entire event. Father ignored me as well. I was not punished. Nobody was even mad at me. Nothing else was done.

The 'you'll go to prison forever if you kill him' line worked on me, because I didn't know the law, I didn't know that we don't incarcerate little kids; I was underage. They lied to me. So next time when he got me close to that feeling of 'I'm about to be murdered', I had no way to defend myself. If I killed him I would go to prison. I had no choice but to just let him do whatever and not retalliate in any significant way. Sad and painful.

Thinking back later on this event, it was bewildering to me that I was not punished whatsoever for a murder attempt, despite getting punished for bullshit like 'talking back' or 'having an unpleasant face expression'. This was common; I could be severely punished for leaving a door open, but when I did something big, like hurt a sibling, or threaten someone, or hit my father with a metal pole in the head, there was no consequences whatsoever, nobody would have even talked to me about it. I wondered if this was just because they loved that shit, they loved watching me grow into the same violent, brutal and sadistic person they all were, because then they could go 'you're no different than us', and be right. But, unlike them, once I knew something I did hurt another person, I wouldn't do it again; I did horrible things just because I was a kid, and all adults around me were horrible, and I mimicked them, as kids do. They wouldn't punish me for mimicking their awful behaviour because they approved of that, and they didn't care if my siblings were hurt because they loved hurting children anyway.

This also reinforces the theory that punishment is just an excuse to hurt a child, because these were the legitimate reasons to invoke consequences, but they never did, punishments were dished out when they felt like torturing someone and at that point, any face expression could have been an excuse enough. They didn't care about raising a kid or teaching them right and wrong, it was all just self-serving acts of sadistic pleasure.

But to let a murder attempt fly? I thought about it more today, and realized that maybe, they were shocked I did that. Maybe it was an unpleasant surprise to find out, that under severe stress, I would make an attempt at their lives. Maybe finding out that I just tried to kill one of them, made them not want to immediately try and do more violence to me. Maybe they were concerned that I injured their family member, and were more preoccupied with that. Maybe the logistics of 'this child just attempted to kill someone' made them slightly less secure in their 'beating children is normal and good' culture, maybe it signaled to them that beating children could be, in fact, a little dangerous. Of course this didn't make them not wanna do it, they just needed to persuade the child to take it and not retalliate, thus 'you'll go to prison if you do that', and afterwards they felt comfortable again, sure that justice is on their side. To make things more sinister, beating children was not even illegal in my country during that time, so what they were doing to me wasn't punishable by law. But if I retalliated, I was a criminal, according to them.

Hitting children did become illegal by the time I was 9, but conveniently nobody bothered informing  me, and I would live many more years in belief that violence towards me was normal, necessary and completely legal, hell I believed that even killing me was legal, because everyone was acting like it very much was and were threatening it left and right.

So the reason I'm thinking about this event, is that I just got some great news. My father has colon cancer. He's currently hospitalized about it. I don't know what stage it is, but the mortality rate for it is high. He might die. He might die.

I am overjoyed. I am hopeful, I am thrilled, I could not be more happy about this. What I started with that pole in the basement, might get finished. If he dies I am free. If he dies, my version of what happened is the only one to exist. I would be safe.

I think my reaction is interesting. Because I know other victims of abuse feel some sort of grief, some sort of pain and guilt for their sick or dying abusers, especially when they're parents, because of the parental bond, and trauma bonding, and victims generally having a lot of empathy and humanity towards abusers. Not me! Apparently my father managed to never even develop the basic parent-child bond with me, and I was ready to kill him by the time I was 6. What kind of shitbag human do you have to be so that your small child tries to kill you with a metal pole and when they hear you're dying, it's the best news of their life? That's such inhumane stuff that all my basic child instincts of attaching to my caretakers got overwritten by the necessity of protecting my life. You did it so badly you messed with human DNA there! Biological instincts voted against your parenthood! Self defense murder was invoked against you. You are ruled out as a bad parent and a life threat by my tiny child instincts.

[artbymesa]

I was just gonna put this in the tags, but maybe this will help someone else to share my story if anyone else feels less alone. And it got long. I was a valedictorian in highschool. I would not recommend it.

Take it from me-- Do well in school, absolutely. Please try to do well in school. Please. But Do Not let it destroy your mental health the way I let it. I had a very unhealthy relationship with it and tied it to my self worth.

(Story time under read more if it helps anyone)

Oversharing time-- it was my priority in highschool. It was a goal I set for myself to prove I could do it, and if I didn't, I think I saw myself as a failure. This was mostly self imposed, and theres probably a psychological explanation for this I wont get into for the sake of length. But I thought if I could at least do this, I had something on paper that I could point to for myself in a sort of external self validation or worth. "I dont know what metric to gauge myself on, but at least I accomplished this". Call it a method of self soothing, I suppose.

It led to almost daily panic attacks that I could not publically control. The whole nine yards, too. It was exhausting and physically draining. If I were honest with me-- I isolated myself. More human contact, more going out with friends, more of me being the one to make the point of reaching out to other people would have made a world of a healthier difference. My focus might not have been so singular and borderline obsessive because it was the only thing i held onto. It put me in a horrible place mentally, and it has severely affected my adult life. I am still trying to unlearn the "if I mess up learning how to do this on the first try, i am a failure" when its like....just learning how to pipe icing on cupcakes or something. I tied my worth to my ability to learn, and that can become extremely unhealthy in a hurry. Especially when I already had mental health issues that were at odds with learning quickly-- like panic attacks that come on fast and wipe my memory and ability to think clearly. Its like I chose the hardest thing for my brain to do, and that was the metric I weighed my self worth on.

What I told myself at the time was some variation of "if I do this, i'll have the best chance at financial support or a full ride for college." That doing this means I will become self sufficient.

That's not how it works, and thats not how it worked.

I got a $1k grant, which was nice, but nowhere near the full ride or anything close to the "heavens of opportunity rain down upon me" sort of thing I had hoped for in my head.

Valedictorians make for good metrics for the school. Attendance records make for good records for the school. Not in any way saying kids SHOULDN'T try to do well in school (please for the love of god, we need every scrap of education we can get in this country), but please find a healthy medium too.

Doing well enough in school and not letting it destroy your mental health do not have to be mutually exclusive. A 3.5 is probably good enough. That was the cut off for one of my bigger transfer scholarships later down the road, transfering from one college to another. Nowhere did I have to continue maintaining a 4.0.

Besides. I didnt get a 4.0 by retaining functional information. I got it by gaming the system of how testing worked.

The example I use is a very dry history class in college I had. Our final exam was the culmination of all of our final tests. Same questions, same answers. I did not remember the content. I did not learn anything. What I did? I remembered the first three words of the question and the first three words of the answer, and remembered them by association. And then I forgot it all within the hour.

In the meantime, foster your friendships. Good friendships. This can create business connections in the future. Kindness and community will get the majority of people further in life than being any kind of top of your class, I promise you.

But most of all, be kind to yourself and treat yourself gently.

are you or have you ever been a straight-A student?

[coocoolahh]

My Starlight will Guide Me Home🌠💫

Summary: "Marcus Acacius is know as many things, but if you were to ask the man himself I'm sure that he would want nothing but to be known as the father to his beloved daughter who was born out of the love between him and his precious starlight. Historians have often debated over the identity of the mysterious starlight. Edward Gibbon once famously claimed in his magnum opus that Acacius' starlight was a vagabond princess from one of the Eastern kingdoms, but there is no concrete evidence to back his claim."

- Dr. C.C. Philip. 'The Roman Conquest of Numidia'.

A/N: No warning as such (not beta read). I have no idea what I just wrote but it was fun to do so. I hope that you guys will enjoy it as well🥰

r/historyloreNgossip 6 days ago

Eudoxes4lyf

Letters of General Marcus Acacius

I just finished reading R. Dike's "Epistles from the Past", which is basically a collection of translations of personal letters from various individuals across civilizations; I kid you not I sobbed and swooned so ugly when I read the part featuring the letters of Marcus Acacius (a 3rd century CE Roman general) to his daughter which were written when he was out on a military campaign to Numidia.

The man is so Girl Dad coded. That one letter where he is worried about her favourite dolly getting misplaced, while he is out there pillaging entire cities and colonizing the eastern frontiers in the name of Rome😭

Edit 2: I thought the person he is referring to as "starlight" was his wife Lucilla. Is there any extra info on the General's starlight?

Edit 2: I found a copy of Professor Philip's book in the college library. Thanks for the recommendation!

ptolemysiswife .5 days ago.

Omg yesss! The letters are so sweet. We had it on our reading list (it was a different book tho!) this semester and I kid you not I giggled like a school girl in love while reading the General's letters. Poor guy was missing his kid so much, you can't help but feel for him haha

SadguyRumi . 5 days ago.

Did you know that his daughter was born from a slave from the Orient and not his lawful wife?

ptolemysiswife .5 days ago.

Ah yes! The famous starlight. The way he describes her in the letters is so endearing. The man is outright simping for his starlight haha. It's so romantic😩🤌🏻

SadguyRumi . 4 days ago.

It's so funny that a hardened war general was down bad for the mother of his child.

BanksofVaranasi .4 days ago.

I think the OP will enjoy C.C. Philip's "The Dawn and Downfall of an Empire: A War General's Musings". It dives deep into the celebrated General's personal life, and even gives us some clues about his beloved starlight (I'm actively refraining from calling her a slave out of respect for the general who seemed to hate it when others referred to her and their daughter as such) which is backed by actual archaeological findings and not hearsay that other contemporary historians of the time would have us believe.

Hamurabishabibi .3 days ago.

This sounds so interesting. I'm a sucker for feel good stories from the ancient world. Can anyone please upload some of his letters or few wholesome excerpts? I tried looking for the books that OP and u/BanksofVaranasi mentioned but they cost a really pretty penny in my country (damn you conversion rate!)😀 I really wanna know about this starlight person as well😆😅

citethysources .2 days ago.

You're in luck cause some museum (I forgot which) recently uploaded a bunch of N. Maurice's translations of the General's letters (along with some other excerpts related to his life and times) under the section which they titled "Star Guided Letters to Home" on their website. You can check it out, they've curated all the letters in a nice chronological order

Hamurabishabibi .2 days ago.

omg the title!! I'm feeling violently sick ughhh! thanks a lot, I just found the museum's website and yes the section is curated so nicely. I think I'm in love with the web designer haha

Title: Star Guided Letters to Home: the letters of Marcus Acacius and other related documents from the 3rd century CE.

Translator: Dr. Nestor Maurice, MA, MPhil, PhD

Overview: The celebrated Roman general Marcus Acacius was once considered the darling of the Roman populi. Feared by the enemies of Rome, much of history knows him for his infamous exploits in the eastern frontiers of the Roman Empire, and for his brave defiance against the infamous co-emperors- Geta and Caracalla. The following letters were addressed by the general during his year long expedition to Numidia (in present day Algeria) to his only child and daughter Marcia (known fondly amongst the scholarly circles as "Marcia de la Stella"- Marcia of the Stars), and are a testament to a parent's love for their child, which transcends the temporal and spatial limitations imposed upon us by the natural flow of the Universe. Given the age of Marcia de la Stella at the time that these letters were penned, there is a high probability that they were read out to the child by her adopted mother Lucilla, the daughter of Emperor Marcus Aurelius and the legal wife of Marcus Acacius.

______________________________________________________________

Document 1

"The general had a surprisingly soft corner for his "slave" daughter, who was also his only known and acknowledged progeny. He could often be seen holding the wee babe in his arms within the confines of his domus.

It is rumoured that he had her manumitted in the early hours of her birth, and that there was an undertone of fear amongst the General's personal physicians that the otherwise healthy infant would inherit some of her slave mother's more peculiar cognitive functioning.

Nevertheless, it was evident to much of the Roman public that the child had the General wrapped around her tiny little finger; and anyone who dared to call her a bastard or a child of a slave would have to face the wrath of the otherwise austere and good-natured General"

- Cassius Dio, contemporary Roman historian

Letter 1: A Father's Prayer

"Marcus Acacius to his Moonbeam greetings. My dear moonbeam, a few moments ago I received a correspondence from fair lady Lucilla. She seemed worried that you haven't been keeping well. Oh how I wish I could be there for you my little duckling. But alas, your failure of a father must fulfil his duty to Rome first.

May our household gods inflict all your pain and suffering onto me! Give my salutations to lady Lucilla, and to my starlight. As always, my days are filled with your worry, and my nights are spent praying for you. Farewell, my moonbeam, may the stars and starlight guide this letter home to you."

Document 2

"Lucilla to her Attia greetings. Dearest friend, I received your invitation. I would be more than delighted to attend the wedding of your daughter Julia. I still cannot fathom the fact that little Julia is now ready to manage her own household. It saddens me to think that soon enough my little Marcia too shall come of age and become someone's bride. The child is the light in my otherwise dreary existence. Blessed be her sweet mother who brought her into this world!

I fear that my lord Marcus Acacius will be the most agitated when such a time shall come. But above all, I fear for the sake of the man who will come and ask for Marcia's hand in marriage. Give my greetings to your Julia. You shall see me and little Marcia soon. Farewell, my dearest and most longed for friend."

- Lucilla, wife of Marcus Acacius in a letter to her friend Attia dated 215 CE

Letter 2: Birthday

"Marcus Acacius to his Moonbeam greetings. My sweetheart, may you be showered with all the blessings that the world has to offer. Every year, on the day of your birth, I've taken the liberty to spoil you to my heart's content. Dearest, my good wishes are always upon you, but what has a father to offer to his dearest child from a battlefield?

Moonbeam, since the day that you were born to me and my starlight as our daughter, I've considered myself the luckiest man in all of Rome; but now, here in Numidia, I've started to appreciate the fact that I'm a daughter's father even more. May you never have to step foot in a battlefield, and may your dreams be decorated with happiness. Farewell, my dearest star child, may the stars and starlight guide this letter home to you."

Document 3

"Once at a party hosted by Senator Thraex, Lord [name erased due to erosion] made the mistake of mocking Marcus Acacius' paramour whom he decried as a whorish slave from the east.

Acacius in all his fury beat the unfortunate fool in unmitigated rage, and warned the onlookers that he wouldn't hesitate to do the same to anyone who dared to humiliate the mother of his child.

It was reported that the two co-Emperors, who were present at the gathering, had a good laugh over the misery of the man who had been the target of the general's wrath, and even offered the general to execute the "bumbling fool" as a gift to the general"

-Anonymous writer, 5th century AD

Letter 3: Dolly

"Marcus Acacius to his Moonbeam greetings. My precious star child, who is dear to the sight, but dearer still when the sight is denied, I was informed of your melancholy by dearest Lady Lucilla! I know just how precious the dolly was to you. My starlight had made it for you when you were smaller than a fig in her womb. I too, cannot help but lament the loss of your dolly. I wish I could be there to assuage your grief and mine.

Moonbeam, I promise to help you look for your dolly once I'm back there with you. The very thought of seeing you again fills my heart with joy in these difficult times. You are always in my prayers my dearest. Farewell, my sweet, may the stars and starlight guide this letter home to you"

Document 4

"Lucilla to her husband Marcus Acacius greetings. Dearest confidant and husband , you've always been considerate of me and my feelings since the day the late Emperor Septimius Severus had us betrothed. You've been respectful of my feelings for him, and I've always admired you greatly for that. As such, I was elated when you found your love in the form of [name erased due to erosion]. She brought such joy and light to you; and even bore you the most precious of daughters! Little Marcia has helped me get over my grief for my own dear Lucius, and watching her grow swells my heart with happiness and a sense of pride.

But dearest of friends, I must confide in you that the sweet child has been asking some very curious questions about her own identity, some of which I find myself unable to answer. If you could, please help her quench her curiosity. I pray for the safe passage of your campaign. Farewell, my husband and dearest of confidants.

- Lucilla, in a letter to Marcus Acacius dated 216 CE

Letter 4: Starlight

"Marcus Acacius to his Moonbeam greetings. My little Marcia, your poor father is troubled! I don't know how to begin this letter. I can start by describing the auspicious moment when I met my starlight or maybe I should start by describing her. Your mother, my starlight, hailed from a land somewhere in the far East of Rome. Her people called her [name erased due to erosion] but she was known in Rome as Macrina, for she worked in the household of Macrinus. You may know him as the man with the colouring of dawn who once came over, accompanied by his two adopted daughters, to offer you sweets. But you are too young to remember all that.

My starlight would sometimes play the lute at parties organised by Macrinus. She was so good at playing her instrument that you could swear that she had been blessed by the very gods of music. My starlight had a penchant for singing in her native tongue, but she would only so in private, and oh! how blessed was I to have been privy to her mellifluous voice. She would then try to translate them for me using her adorably weak command over the language that you and I are now conversing in. I'll tell you more about my starlight when I get back home to you. For now, I'm writing down a line from a song which my starlight once sung for me.

There’s a desire, there’s a prayer

Both of them have touched the soul of love

Read it from the left or from the right

From the earth till the sky, only love is written

My little cup of honey, you remind me of my starlight so much! Farewell, my Moonbeam, may the stars and starlight guide this letter home to you"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footnote: Hoii! I had so much fun writing this aiyaaaa! (totally not due on finishing my assignments and finishing my own reading list hahahah). I think the fic is pretty open ended (is it though?). I also chose the Orient cause it truly is a microcosm of the entire world (you get all shapes, colours and almost all race combinations)!! So the reader can customise the appearance of our dear starlight as per their likes and preferences. The orient part could also be my bias speaking cause I'm an aspiring historian whose field of interest lies in countries of the "Orient" (I'm also using the term Orient very veryyy loosely here). I took a lot of inspiration from various historical sources and epistles, so if you come across some of them then do tell!

Anyways, I hope that you guys will enjoy the fic as much as I did writing it huh (It's my first time writing one so I'm sorry if it comes across as cringe)!! Do tell if I should continue this and make it into a series hehe and sorry for any mistakes that I make in advance😽

Do like, repost and comment!! I love those hehe

That one line is from this song at the 2:35 minute mark

[brionysea]

Is it just me or did Vi really not get an arc this season 😭? She doesn’t resolve the fact that she places all her worth on protecting those she loves. A lot of her big emotional beats (joining the enforcers, becoming a pit fighter, finding Vander, freeing Jinx and getting imprisoned for all her efforts) happened as a result of Caitlyn or Jinx’s intervention. She has so much oldest sister syndrome she infected the narrative 😇

yes! I think it's an issue of flawed ideas and poor execution. in classic me fashion, I'll go through the whole thing to show you what I mean:

vi joining the enforcers despite everything they've done to her (killing her parents, roughing up her family as kids, chasing them down, coming into the last drop to arrest them and intimidating everyone and almost taking powder, imprisoning and abusing and starving vi for her entire adolescence) because caitlyn asked her to and caitlyn is the Most Important Person in her life right now is the exact kind of thing vi would do. I personally love how temporary the enforcer gig is, despite that going against the lore (I honestly couldn't care less), because vi's CHARACTER in this show goes against the lore. I don't care that she's supposed to be an enforcer in the game. I'm not playing a game. I'm watching a show. the vi I know wouldn't do that, it makes no sense for her character, and it really feels like that's the point. she's losing herself for the sake of what caitlyn wants in a very clever way to address whoever demanded the show be more accurate to the game (which, again, I AM NOT PLAYING. BECAUSE THIS IS A SHOW THAT'S MORE THAN CAPABLE OF STANDING ON ITS OWN) without betraying the characters. this is the kind of freedom that would have made for a truly stellar season: going where the story is led naturally by its characters rather than being trapped by a pre-determined narrative

then in vi's fight with jinx (which, fine, I guess vi *would* decide that 'jinx isn't powder anymore' means 'my sister is dead'; she's single minded like that, even if it felt rushed), there's suddenly a random child in the crossfire and vi's like oh. okay. I can't actually hurt innocent children the way I was hurt. I do, in fact, have principles, and they dictate that I intervene rather than allow this to play out. and it turns out that when the chips are down caitlyn doesn't actually care about the undercity because she risked killing an innocent child and wants to kill jinx knowing she's vi's sister (and said that jinx, a young mentally ill girl from the undercity, killing caitlyn's mother, one of the richest and most powerful women in piltover, is the same as vi's parents being killed by enforcers while fighting to end the oppressive social order they enforce. it's not.) and basically says that she thought vi was 'one of the good ones' but she's exactly like all those other animals (again, because vi refused to let cait open fire on a child), before literally gut-punching her and leaving her there. vi was right before, they're oil and water, they're too different. and now vi's lost her sister; lost cait; the rest of her family is still dead. she has no money. no power. nowhere to go. nobody to protect. what's even the point of her?

and then we reach the second act. vi has no purpose so she's like well I'm just gonna fight people for money. because she'll win. obviously. she's a mess, she's drinking all the time, she's seeing jinx and caitlyn everywhere (people really breeze over how vi sees things too - definitely to a lesser degree than jinx, but when she hits rock bottom, it's there). I love this set up for vi. it makes so much sense that putting all her energy into caring for others would end up here. like a message from the universe that she needs to learn to do things for herself or she'll always end up back in this hole. you could argue that vi not having a lot of agency and just following jinx or caitlyn around until she ends up stuck in that cell (her ✨️ prison of the mind ✨️ or whatever jinx's imaginary, out of character, ghost silco was talking about), while boring (so boring), is more of vi being stubborn and stuck in her ways and refusing to learn her lesson until she's forced to. which she was also like in season 1, except there, it was more like vi repeatedly trying to solve problems that were much too big to be punched away by punching them (vi thought jinx could brute force her way out of being traumatised), and even then, I didn't get the impression that vi cared enough about the council to actually give up on jinx because of what she did to them. vi's a brick wall of a woman. sometimes, in this bitch of a world, stubbornness is a virtue

the problem, like a lot of things that had potential in season 2, is that it's not actually followed through on. there's no self actualisation for vi. she just cares about jinx until she doesn't and then she has sex with cait (who does not actually atone for any of the shit she did btw) in the prison cell where vi's sister was just planning suicide and is currently going through with it elsewhere, as far as vi knows

I think the intention was for vi having sex with cait instead of chasing after jinx to be the first selfish thing in her life (which jinx basically told her to do, because no one hates piltover anymore even though they haven't changed at all or done anything to earn this 'meet us halfway' demand of feeling entitled to zaun's bodies for their war after poisoning those same bodies for who knows how long. jinx never called vi an idiot for dating an enforcer. in fact, she feels bad for nuking the council :( which means she's good now! 👍 because GOOD characters are NICE to piltover and only BIG MEANIES care about zaun's independence. even silco's ghost thinks it's a waste of time! apparently he was just bitter and unloved, like a child throwing a tantrum! sure. sure! why not!), but it falls apart immediately because 1) jinx told vi she's going to kill herself (vi knew what jinx was planning before she asked, you can hear the fear in her voice), which obviously takes priority - never in a million years would vi let jinx disappear like that without doing anything about it, no matter how self actualised she is, because STOPPING YOUR SISTER FROM COMMITTING SUICIDE IS A NORMAL THING TO DO. well, maybe not normal, but you know what I mean. it's not exclusively a vi-ism. it's common sense. if someone you love tells you they're going to commit suicide, you do everything in your power to prevent it. and 2) CAIT IS NOT ACTUALLY REDEEMED FROM ALL THE SHIT SHE DID TO THE UNDERCITY. yes, cait letting jinx escape was symbolic of her letting go of the obsession that drove her to that point, but she didn't actually hurt jinx (except now jinx is free to off herself because of cait, which vi would be angry about if she hadn't spontaneously forgotten what she learned in the previous scene). despite her personal vendetta, cait couldn't catch jinx to even attempt to hurt her. who she DID hurt was the undercity at large, and she has no way of making up for that. they dropped the zaun plotline like a hot potato so there's no narrative opportunity for cait to prove to vi (and to the audience) that she gets it now. that she's done being a fascist and vi isn't just blinded by her hotness (which would be a strange angle to take but that's honestly what it seems like. it's so shallow and out of place with everything going on). none of this is earned enough for vi to choose a quickie in a cell over stopping her suicidal sister from blowing herself up

TLDR; there was an attempt at an arc, which was foiled by tying it so closely to caitvi, which was tied to the politics of the piltover-zaun conflict, which was never resolved and thus made vi's arc feel unsatisfying

[goingmerryfics]

A really funny reverse on the daddy post: someone asks you to call them daddy and you say “you’re not my dad!”

You're Not My Dad! - Sabo, Usopp, Kid

Content: NSFW & MDNI (not in Usopp’s), sexual situations, unintentional (?) kinkshaming, laughing during sex, Pre-Skip Usopp, Usopp being silly, Usopp’s can be read as platonic

Notes* yeessss thank you sm for this one >:) I took a little bit of creative liberty with this one and did some different characters this time!

Sabo

The sheets are tangled around the bare bodies of the both of you

The room is quiet aside from the soft pants and sounds from the two of you

In this intimate moment, you’re completely enveloped in each other

Sabo leans down, biting at your earlobe. He’s so lost in the moment, lost in you

“Call me Daddy.”

You didn’t believe it at first. Did he just say that? Like for real?

You look him dead in the eyes, have just enough time to ask him what the hell he just said, before you burst out laughing, asking him if that’s his way of asking for a baby, or if he’s just feeling extra spicy today

Sabo looks like he’s going to explode

“Oh, crap, I got a little carried away, I’m sorry!” 

It’s kind of hard to continue your coupling after that but you two are laughing pretty hard

Kid

Sex with Kid was a pretty frequent thing as his partner. The guy just has an insatiable appetite for your body

With that, your relationship has dived into quite a few kinks 

So as he’s got you pinned, writhing and sighing at his touch, he has no hesitation as he whispers,

“Who’s your daddy?”

It doesn’t throw you off guard so much as it does just kind of… Turn you off a bit?

You really don’t wanna think about your dad in the middle of this

You hardly think about it when you reply along the lines of, bitch, not you!

Of course he stops, thinking for sure that you’re just being bratty before he realizes no, he’s just goofed up here

“Just- Forget it!”

He’s red in the face and just continues touching you, trying to move on from the situation

Usopp

You were sitting nearby, watching him making repairs on the Merry

He was rambling on and on about how he’s fixed ships from 20,000 different pirate ships in the past

An obvious lie, but it’s entertaining to listen to him ramble on about it, making up stories that very well could be turned into truth one day

Maybe not this particular one- Usopp was, by no means, a Shipwright. But he cared for the Merry and he did his best, so you couldn’t fault him for that

Usopp leans back from his task, wiping his forehead and sighing with finality as he finishes

He excitedly gestures to his work. It’s messy, but he prevented a leak and for that you give him a little clap

It’s then that he puts his hands on his hips and proudly puffs out his chest.

“Call me Daddy Usopp!”

You immediately scream out the first thing that comes to mind in response- you’re not my dad!

It makes the both of you laugh out loud, enough to bring tears to both your eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation

[wellzofyouth]

What are some of your unpopular comic opinions? Dc or otherwise

I'm gonna do milquetoast unpopular opinions because I don't wanna argue with anybody today

stop writing superbat so sanitized!!! I want Bruce to ruin Clark's life in the best way possible. But also make it cute! I want to feel the yearning and I feel like most art fails to reflect that. Like they'll make Clark a masculine Dom top and a r*pist and I'm just like okay. I want them to be pathetic together.

Also people who hate on superbat for being toxic are incredibly boring and uninteresting. Also I see this criticism a lot from *certain* people but Superbat isn't OOC. In fact see point 8* for my feelings on that

Also I would like more stories from Clark's perspective without him being evil 😇 give him sexual repression and survivors guilt too. I want more stories about him being an immigrant.

People who call Bruce abusive are so fucking annoying I'm sorry. Especially because I'm not a fan/don't read most of the shit they're pointing to but also because the standards of child abuse changed during history and comics reflect that. Like fucking get over yourselves he's not real. God forbid you bring up the writing of some of their faves....

People would complain about batfandom getting their characters wrong/clogging up the tags are just as annoying as people who do those things. Yall are just going to have to accept that Batman is THE most popular superhero in DC and that people are going to relate him to your character. For good reason too since he is in every comic basically. Just block or move on already. Literally mute the tag like I do. You're not oppressed for being a green lantern stan. Well maybe you are if you like Guy.

Garth should be in more adaptations and media wtf????? He's basically a khia

Teen titans and Yj cartoons are both different shades of mid. I don't like Starfire in TT at all :/ and Yj just blows. Teen titans is iconic though and I loved it as a kid.

Wally is unfunny. :/ no hate to him tho. I just don't find the way most writers write funny characters to be funny. Probably because they're all cishet white guys who take themselves too seriously.

Clois loves to watch real housewives together ❤️ I know this in my soul and I will not hear otherwise. Not even unpopular just a headcanon

OOC doesn't exist for comic characters. I used to believe otherwise but I am fully on the team of OOC doesn't exist. There is simply too much history for most of these characters to have one based solid characterization so I will never hate on fanon. People on here can be such pretentious little fucks when it comes to other fans. Like just mute or block bitch damn. They don't hurt anyone by saying Tim drinks coffee and plays fortnite

I dont like most canon straight ships sorry 😭 I'm not naming names but they're all boring as hell. That does not mean I hate all straight ships. I can only see some characters like Dick as straight unfortunately and I do like batcat and clois but the others are just so.... yaoi and yuri won this round. They're all gay people to me

But also I dislike most popular ships in this fandom in general. Yall are missing out some good ass yuri to pair up men with no chemistry. Come on 👎👎👎👎

Green Lanterns are all hot asf. Not even unpopular I think. Hal, Kyle, and Alan are easily the hottest DC men and it's not even close.

Idgaf about any comic post 2011 and barely anything post 2003

[kalinara]

So @mythomars posted something recently about wanting to see baby Scott freeze up in front of the team and Xavier react badly to it. I couldn't think of anything that hit that beat off the top of my head, but it did remind me a bit of Deadly Genesis. So I decided to make this post.

Anyway, Deadly Genesis was the story by Ed Brubaker that established the existence of Vulcan, the third (and probably not last) Summers brother.

So in this story, it's revealed that the Krakoan mission that led to the recruitment of the team in Giant-Sized X-Men was a bit more complicated than it initially seemed.

In Giant-Sized, we're told that the entire team was captured on Krakoa, essentially trapped in some kind of suspended animation state. Cyclops was the only one to escape, returning to Xavier for help and then leads the new team to rescue his old team.

Now in Deadly Genesis, we're told it happened a bit differently. In fact, Cyclops hadn't escaped. He was captured like the others, and Xavier had sent a second team of youngsters (this group trained by Moira MacTaggart) as a cavalry. Among them is Gabriel Summers, the long lost third Summers brother.

They manage to extract Cyclops, but then things go very wrong:

So Xavier does a scan with Cerebro and determines that the Original Team (the O5 + Alex and Lorna) are still alive and trapped. But there's no sign of Vulcan and the others. They're dead.

Moira is understandably distraught, but the others still need rescue. Fair enough. But that's when we get this:

I mean, obviously Scott did react very badly to the idea of his new brother dying to save him. He's probably going to need a lot of time and help to deal with yet another traumatic loss on top of, well, his whole life.

But who needs therapy when you have telepathy:

Sorry about your brother, kid. But you're a lot more useful as a team leader than someone with functioning mental health, so we're just going to mind-wipe you clear. Congratulations!

[thatrandombystander]

Day 3 of I Am So Fucking Stressed.

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[electricmaimer]

"i dont care if people who havent read the books get spoiled for the show" <- words of a person i now want to bite and yell at